Mystic and Blaze

It wasn’t until Issie had reached the far end of the paddock that she was finally able to slow the mare down a little, first to a canter, then a trot and finally a gentle jog. Even though her sides were heaving from the run, Issie had to keep a tight hold on her horse to stop her from bolting off again.

“Steady, girl, good girl, Blaze,” she breathed, her arms trembling from the effort of hanging on to the reins. Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears.

“That was amazing!” Kate yelled out as she rode towards her. “I’ve never seen a horse run like that. Toby’s an ex-racehorse and Blaze even gave him a run for his money.”

“Good on you for staying on her back at that speed!” Stella was obviously impressed. Issie, however, was less pleased.

“This is the second time she’s got away on me.” Issie was shaking. “I just can’t control her. It’s like she goes crazy the minute I get on her back.”

Issie had been expecting sympathy from her friends, so she was shocked when Stella barked at her instead, “You’re being silly, Issie! Everyone knows you’re a natural rider. That’s why Avery chose you to take Blaze on. OK, so she’s being difficult. I’m sure all she needs to sort her out is a little bit of proper schooling. Talk to Tom. After all, he gave her to you. So why don’t you ask him for a little help?”

Stella was right, of course. Issie had been trying to struggle on alone. What she really needed was some advice. “I’ll ask Tom if he’ll meet me at the paddock one day next week when the holidays have started to give me a hand.” Issie nodded. “He’ll know what to do.”

Still, deep-down she doubted that anyone could really help her ride this spirited mare. Was Blaze too much horse for her to handle?

In the darkness of her bedroom that night, Issie had the dream again. It always began in the same way. The rhythmic sound of hoofbeats seemed to thunder out from the blackness and then the horse appeared like a silver mist in the gloom. As he came closer Issie could make out the misty outline of his body, the proud arch of his neck crested with a thick mane, and the long sweep of his elegant silver tail which trailed almost to the ground. The horse gave a soft nicker and came closer. He was just a few metres away now and Issie could see him clearly at last. It was Mystic. His dark-rimmed eyes looked at Issie intently and he was still for a moment. Then he pawed the ground and gave an agitated shake of his mane, before breaking into a high-stepping trot and heading straight for her.

Mystic came to an abrupt stop right in front of Issie. She reached out a hand to touch him, but before she could get near enough Mystic went up, rearing on his hind legs so that his front hooves thrashed the air above her. At the same time he let out a terrible long, low squeal – the noise a stallion might make if he was rounding up his herd against danger. It was a sound so deep and piercing that it woke Issie up with a start. She sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing, her pyjamas damp with sweat.

Even now, wide awake, she could still hear Mystic’s shrill squeal ringing in her ears. And then she heard something else. Not a squeal, but the drumming of hoofbeats. It sounded to Issie as if the noise were coming from just outside her bedroom window. Without hesitating she leapt up and raced to pull back the curtains, squinting out into the darkness.

She stood quietly at the window and held her breath as she tried hard to listen again. Nothing. The night air was completely still. Her eyes had adjusted now and she could see that the back yard was empty. Reluctantly, Issie let the curtain drop from her hand, moved away from the window and slipped back under the covers and into bed. It was all a dream, she told herself. But as she drifted back off to sleep she could have sworn she still heard the sound of hoofbeats somewhere out there in the darkness.

CHAPTER 9

“Why, Issie! She’s looking brilliant, isn’t she?” Avery was obviously thrilled at the sight of the chestnut mare.

Blaze was a different horse from the one that had arrived at the River Paddock one late spring morning. She had blossomed under Issie’s tender care. She had put on condition so that her ribs no longer stood out so much, and her liver chestnut coat, previously patchy and dull, had been groomed until it gleamed like precious metal.

“I’ve been giving her a mix of oats, crushed barley and chaff to fatten her up a bit, and a dose of linseed oil to put a shine on her coat,” Issie said proudly.

“Fantastic!” Avery enthused as he ran a hand over Blaze’s rump, checking on her condition. “Well done. But I can see why this mare has been giving you trouble. Arabs are notoriously hotheaded sorts, and if this girl has been getting pepped up on a diet of oats and the like she’s probably got too much energy for her own good. Now that she’s in better shape we’ll have to cut out the oats to calm her down.

“Now,” Avery said, looking around, “let’s get started. Where’s your gear?” Issie reminded Avery that her saddle had been destroyed in the accident with Mystic. “Well,” Avery considered, “not to worry. We won’t be needing a saddle for this lesson anyway.” He cast a glance at his watch. “At least you’re here,” he grumbled and reached out a hand to give Issie a leg up. “Where are the other two? I told them to be here at precisely two o’clock—”

The sound of hooves on gravel interrupted him.

“Wait for us!” squeaked Kate, trotting briskly along the road towards the fields.

“We’re really sorry we’re late!” Stella added. Her chubby little mare was heaving with the effort of keeping up with Kate’s rangy Thoroughbred.

“Well, it looks like you’ve more than warmed these two up,” Avery snapped. “Come on then. Let’s spend a few minutes in the arena getting them to accept the bit and then we’ll pop them over a few jumps and check out your positions.”

As they entered the arena Blaze took the lead. “Issie,” Avery said, “you change the rein and keep her moving at a steady walk, then when you get into the far corner ask her to move into a trot. Keep plenty of leg on her and keep your hands nice and still.”

“You two,” he gestured to Kate and Stella, “follow along behind Blaze. Come on, girls! I want to see these ponies paying attention.”

As they worked the horses in around the arena, Avery busied himself in the middle of the ring, setting up trotting poles and cavalletti. “Right. Kate, you take the lead now and go over this combination that I’ve set up,” Avery instructed. “The rest of you follow along behind Kate, leaving a decent space between you.”

Kate and Stella went on ahead, taking the trotting poles with ease. But as Issie circled Blaze to follow them the mare tossed her head up, avoiding the bit and looking wild-eyed at the rails.

“Keep her steady, Isadora,” Avery said.

But it was no use. Blaze simply wasn’t paying her any attention. She took the trotting poles with an ungainly bound, then raced at the first cavalletti, throwing Issie back and almost unseating her. Landing off balance, Issie clutched on to the mare’s mane as she stopped dead in front of the last jump, then changed her mind and bunny-hopped across it. Issie lurched forward, still hanging on as Blaze took the jump. But as they landed she couldn’t keep her balance any longer, and flew over her horse’s head.

Hitting the ground with a thud, Issie tried to relax, knowing that it was better to let her body absorb the impact. Still, she felt herself gasping for air as the wind was knocked out of her, and it took a minute or two before she could get her breath back and stand up. By the time she was on her feet, Avery was heading towards her, leading Blaze by the reins.

“Are you OK?” he asked as he reached her. “Yeah, I’m fine, just totally embarrassed,” Issie wanted to say. Instead, she just nodded.

“Well, too many oats certainly have made Blaze a bit hot.” Avery smiled at her. At least he didn’t think she fell off because she was a useless rider!

Issie brushed herself down and tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath as Avery offered a hand to give her a leg up.

He turned to Kate and Stella: “Girls, I know you were looking forward to having a lesson but I think we need to focus on Blaze today. Why don’t you unsaddle and then you can come back over to the arena and watch us?”

He turned to Issie: “We need to take things back to basics with Blaze,” he told her. “I know you’ve been along to one or two of my natural horsemanship classes in the past, but with the problems you’ve been having with Blaze, I think it’s time for some special advanced lessons.”

He took the mare by the reins and looked at his pupil. “You can dismount now,” he said.

Issie was confused. “But, I thought…I thought you just said we were going to do some more work…”

“A natural horseman knows that if you want to be a good rider, the first step is learning to handle your horse while you’re still on the ground,” Avery replied. “Then once you have your horse’s trust and respect you can do anything you like. Now take Blaze into the middle of the arena. We’ll play some training games with her that will get her listening to you, and then we’ll get started on the real work.”

If you happened to see Issie that afternoon playing her natural horsemanship games you would think she looked pretty silly: jumping up and down in front of her horse, waggling her arms and legs like a crazy puppet on a string; doing star jumps in front of Blaze with a pair of plastic shopping bags billowing in her hands, followed by another set of star jumps, this time with a raincoat in one hand and an old umbrella in the other. There were moments when it all seemed so ridiculous that even Issie fell about laughing.

But Avery would glare at her and remind her that this was serious business. “These games are designed to make Blaze ‘bombproof. Do you know what that means?”

“I think so,” Issie said. “It means a horse who behaves well no matter what.”

“Exactly. We want Blaze to have so much faith in you that nothing can scare her.”

And with that, he gave Issie a leg up on to Blaze’s back. “That’s enough groundwork. Time for you to put your faith in Blaze for once,” he said. Avery reached up and undid the throatlash and noseband, lifted the reins forward over Blaze’s ears and then slipped the bridle off her head.

“But…what are you doing? How am I supposed to ride if she hasn’t got a bridle on?” Issie squeaked.

“You don’t need one,” Avery insisted. “Just hang on to a handful of mane and sit there. We’re going to let Blaze steer. She can go anywhere she wants. I just want you to sit tight and let her have her head.”

Avery stood with his arm around Blaze’s neck, calming the mare while Issie got comfortable. She gripped a thick hank of mane in her hands and wrapped her legs tightly around Blaze’s sleek body.

“No, no, don’t grip up with your legs. Relax a little,” Avery instructed. “If you relax, your horse will relax too. Now, I’m going to let her go and I want you to just sit there. That’s right. Stay perfectly still and let her decide for herself where to go.” He kept talking as he released his grip on Blaze. “Horses are used to being told what to do by their riders. So naturally, if you ask one to think by itself for a change, suddenly their brains start to work and, well, who knows what could happen.”

“I could fall off again, that’s what could happen…” Issie muttered.

“The rails of the dressage arena will keep her from going too far,” Avery pointed out. “Now, just sit there and relax totally.”

Issie tried to relax but it wasn’t easy. Blaze was all excited by the weight of a rider on her back. Her ears were pricked forward and her head was held high. She launched herself into a high-stepping trot and let out a shrill whinny as she charged down to the far end of the dressage arena. Issie forgot about relaxing and concentrated on hanging on as Blaze turned sharply and trotted back up the side of the arena.

“She’s doing well,” Avery coached. “She’s just starting to understand that she can do whatever she likes. In a moment she’ll calm down and start walking.” Issie wasn’t so sure. Any minute now, Blaze could realise that she was free and take a flying leap over the rails of the arena instead, dumping Issie in the process. The trot had now become a canter and Blaze seemed confused by the combination of the weight on her back and no bit in her mouth to control her. She gave a snort and shook her head.

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